


The Runaway

by wordsbymeganmichael



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Pirate Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Pirate Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Princess Emma Swan, Runaway Bride, sexy pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-02-23 02:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbymeganmichael/pseuds/wordsbymeganmichael
Summary: Princess Emma is set to marry Prince Neal, but she has hidden her hatred of him for too many years to do anything - except flee the kingdom. She runs into a familiar face, though he doesn't look too familiar anymore: Captain Killian Jones, now the Pirate Hook. Where will their adventures take them? And will King David trying to save his daughter from losing her True Love be exactly what leads her to find him?





	1. Chapter 1

TEN YEARS AGO:

She hears his voice through the thick wooden door, her hand on the knob of the door moments away from leaving, and the words that reach her ears make her blood boil even though she has no idea who they were coming from:

“I don’t understand what the big deal is. People die every day, so what made the queen so important that the entire kingdom has to mourn her? I’ve definitely heard of other monarchs, better monarchs, whose husbands don’t throw balls in their honor.”

“Don’t talk about Queen Snow like that. You never had the honor of meeting her, and she was an incredible leader.”

“I still don’t know what gives King David the right to hold a ball in her honor. From what I’ve heard, this whole royal family will take any opportunity to have visitors, as if they can’t get any otherwise. If I were King, I would hope that I wouldn’t have to invite the whole realm just to get a few visitors.”

They must have moved out of earshot of the library door, because Emma hears his voice finally moving away, but she had already heard too much, and for what seems like the millionth time in the past week, Emma feels the tears stinging her cheeks, and she rests her forehead against the cool wood.

***

Standing next to her father at the top of the stairs leading to the ballroom, she looks out over the crowd gathered below them, trying her best to keep the smile on her face.

“Emma, you are so strong, and I am so very proud of you,” he whispers to her, taking her arm in his and starting down the steps. She feels her lip start to quiver with his words, but she knows she has to stay strong, not just for her or her father, but for her mother, who would rest more peacefully knowing that her loss has not broken her daughter - not publically, at least.

“How many princes do I have to dance with today? I can’t promise that I can hold myself together for the rest of the night.”

David leans over and kisses his daughter’s cheek as they reach the bottom of the stairs, and they bow to the applauding crowd as the first song begins to play: the song that would, traditionally, be shared between the king and queen, but Emma takes her mother’s place.

“Of course not, sweetie, and no one expects you to. I’ve only set up two dances tonight for you, and they’re both right after ours. Then you just have to say the hellos with me, and you’re good to go.”

“Thank you, father,” Emma whispers, and David twirls her around, the hem of her simple grey and silver gown twirling around her, and the guests applaud them again.

They dance together in silence for a few moments, smiling at each other and ignoring the rest of the party guests, ignoring the reason that this whole ball is being held, until David breaks the silence.

“She would have loved this, you know. You did a great job putting everything together.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“But the idea of it was your idea, and brilliant. She would have hated everyone mourning her, being all sad and quiet. This is what she wanted.”

“I just wish that made it easier.” David looks down at his daughter as a small tear rolls down her cheek, which he catches with his thumb before it falls.

“It will get easier, Emma. But it will definitely get harder first.”

“You’re holding yourself together pretty well, too. What’s your secret?”

“I’m only holding myself together well around, uh, other people. I have to be strong in public, for her, for you - for the kingdom. Do you know the chaos that would ensue if the king lost his cool? Even losing your wife, queen, and true love isn’t enough of an excuse.” He takes a deep, shaky breath and twirls her again. “But I will tell you this, Emma: I would not have held myself together if I had to plan this event.”

Emma smiles up at him, but they both need her to change the subject, so she does: “Who am I dancing with?”

“Captain Jones, of the Royal Navy, and Prince Neal, Gold and Princess Belle’s son.”

“Captain Jones - doesn’t he have a younger brother, a Lieutenant?”

“Yes, but it’s bad form to ask a Lieutenant to dance with the Princess when there’s a Captain of a suitable age.”

The smile Emma shares with her father this time is different than the one from a few moments ago, less worm and knowing and more - well, more like a fifteen year old with a crush.

Her dance with her father ends, and instead of bowing to each other, they share a warm, meaningful hug, before he leads her across the floor towards Captain Jones, who smiles at her, bowing deeply, looking dapper in his naval uniform - though not as dapper as his younger brother, who smiles at her from behind the Captain.

Her dance with the sailor is short, smooth, and silent on her end: when the music begins and they begin to move across the floor, she asks him about his travels, his time in the navy, and he speaks of them for the rest of the song - though she doesn’t mind. He’s cute, rugged, and she can feel the ripples of his muscles through his uniform as he leads her across the dance floor, and around the world with his stories.

The song ends, and they bow to each other, sharing a sparkling smile. The crowd applauds them, and David winks at her from across the ballroom.

However, her dance with the Prince does not go as smoothly. He bows to her, a smile on his face that makes her stomach churn uncomfortably. Something about him throws her off, but she can’t place it - until he speaks to her.

“I’m sorry about your mother, Princess.” Something about his voice is insincere, something Emma can always tell - her gift. But there’s more, something behind the voice, something that sounds so familiar, and she places it when he continues: “Queen Snow truly was spectacular, and the whole realm will miss her.”

With this, she recognizes the voice from earlier, who she heard talking outside the library. This was the one that made her blood boil, the one that talked so rudely about her mother while standing in her castle. She fights a momentary internal battle: she can make a scene, call him out for his rudeness earlier that day; or she can stay quiet, get through this dance, and never speak to the Prince again. While, deep inside, she wants to burst apart, blow up at the boy standing in front of her, who has the nerve to speak to her, she decides to stay quiet, grinds her teeth through the rest of the dance, and leaves him at the end of the dance - then doesn’t think about him again for almost ten years.

  
PRESENT DAY:

“Emma, I am done having this conversation with you,” David exclaims, pushing himself off of his chair at the table so quickly that it clatters to the floor behind him. “Your wedding is tomorrow, and that’s that.”

“What happened to true love? You, of all people, are the biggest advocate for true love, and forcing me into a marriage makes you a hypocrite!”

His eyes, hard at first, grow soft, sad, staring straight through Emma.

“And do you see where that got me?”, he asks softly, after a moment. “Ruling a kingdom I didn’t want to rule - not even my kingdom - all by myself, because we were so sure that we could get through anything together.” David goes to sit back down, realizes that his chair is still on the floor, so instead begins pacing. “I know what it’s like to find your one true love, yes. But I also - I know what it’s like to lose your one true love, too, Emma. And if it means I can stop you from this heartbreak by agreeing to this marriage, then I absolutely will.”

“But dad - “

“No, Emma. Now, off to bed. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Dad, you can’t - “

But he is already out the door, more than done with the conversation. She does what she was asked, however slowly, and makes her way through the castle to her chambers, where at this time tomorrow, she would be entering with Prince Neal, a man who she not only does not love, but hates, more than anyone she’s ever met - and she’s met a lot of people. Walking through the same hallway that she heard his voice for the first time, Emma comes to a decision, one that she knows might change her life forever - but it's much better than the alternative.

She begins to run through the hallways, her bare feet padding on the cold stone floors, making a mental list of the things she has to take with her. All she has to do when she reaches her chambers is toss everything in a small bag, lace up her most comfortable shoes - her riding boots - and write her father a short note, since she at least owes him that:

 _Father,_  
_I love you and appreciate everything you have done for me, but I can’t do this. I understand where you’re coming from, but you’re so blinded with your love for Mother that you can’t bring yourself to see just how much I cannot marry Prince Neal. I_ will _be safe, and I_ will _be back, so don’t waste resources to try to find me. I do not know yet where I am going, but I know that I cannot stay here._  
_Love Always,_  
_Emma_


	2. Chapter 2

She doesn’t miss the sideways glances from the kitchen staff as she silently makes her way to the outskirts of the castle and the town: outside the kitchen door lies a small field, surrounded with a thick line of trees that lead down the hill and to the port. But no one questions her presence, not even on the eve of her wedding: they know Emma is just like her mother, especially in that, to clear her head, she secluded herself in the woods, so this is a common sight for the servants. 

Emma is stuck in her own head, worrying more about where she is heading than the glances from all around her - until one of the young kitchen maids, an eight year old girl named Maddie who had just recently begun helping her mother a few weeks before, falls in step with her as she heads towards the door. “Princess Emma, you're getting married tomorrow! Why aren't you getting some sleep?” 

Emma sees Maddie's mother begin to head towards them, most likely to reprimand the young girl, but Emma smiles at her, shaking her head, and she continues with her work instead. Stopping in her tracks, Emma drops into a squat, eye to eye with the young girl. 

“Sweetie, did you ever have a night where, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't get to sleep?”

“Yes! That's when I go read from my storybook until I can't keep my eyes open!” 

Emma can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Well, when I can't sleep, I do what my mother taught me to do, and go for a walk in the woods.”

“The Queen liked to spend time in the woods?”

“Oh, sweetie, the Queen loved to spend time in the woods more than anything in the world, except maybe the King. So that’s where I go to feel close to her.”

“And she helps you sleep?”

“She usually does, yes.”

Maddie takes a step back, away from Emma, and smiles tp at her as she stands up straight. “My mother makes me feel better, too. I’m sure you’ll make a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you, my dear, Have fun helping your mother.”

“I will!” Maddie calls behind her as she pushes through the kitchen door and out into the cool night air. 

The walk down to the docks is quick, and she doesn't waste time wandering through the woods, as she would on a normal night. Doing her best to not draw attention to herself, she moves along the dock, taking in all of her options: fishing ships, some she recognizes and some she does not, not the right choice for right now, since many of them return to this same port at the end of the day; merchant ships, many sponsored by her father - and a bad choice for that very reason, for if he called the realm to search for her, they would be the first to give her up for a shining reward; naval ships, an even worse choice for the same reason. 

But there’s another ship, docked all by itself, away from the other vessels, that catches her eye, just as she thinks she is out of luck - and, much to her surprise, it seems to be getting ready to make sail, which is odd both because of the hour and the fact that the Royal wedding is the next day. 

She sets her mind on it, making her way down the dock towards it, and walks up towards a man loading crates onto it.   
“Excuse me, sir,” she says in her calmest and most down-to-earth voice. “I would like to have a word with your captain.”

The man sneers up at her, but he must recognize her, for his sneer disappears almost immediately. “Your highness,” he breathes, and begins to bow, but she places her hand on his shoulder before he can do so, holding out a gold coin with the other. 

“Please, none of that. I just need to have a word with the captain.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am. Wait - wait here, please.” He stutters, then turns towards the ship and practically runs away from her. 

Emma tries her best to stay inconspicuous, and she only catches the eyes of a few townspeople - hopefully, she thinks, no one that would cause alarm. After what seems like too long, she finally hears footsteps on the dock from the ship, and turns towards them to see the man she spoke to leading a tall, dark figure towards her. Although everything else has changed, she still recognizes his face, somehow so similar to the young man from all those years ago, the young captain who was the central figure to her schoolgirl crushes. 

“Captain Jones,” she says, half-statement-half-question, just as he says, “Princess,” in the same tone. 

“No one has called me that in a few years,” he replies, so much pain burning behind his blazing blue eyes. 

“And I'm hoping no one will call me that for a while,” she snaps back, “I need passage, and I need it tonight. I will pay you, and I will pay you well, as long as you get me away from here, no questions asked.”

He looks her over for a few moments, taking it all in, from her simple coat over her common clothing, to her riding boots, to the bag hanging over her shoulder. 

“You're running away,” he comments, trying to read her bright green eyes but getting nothing. 

“I said no questions, captain. Will you take me or not?”

They hold eye contact for another few moments, each trying to see into the soul of the other, but failing. 

“It wasn't a question, it was simply an observation, but aye, I’ll take you.”

After another moment, he breaks eye contact and steps to the side, sweeping his hand in front of him. “Welcome to the Jolly Roger, lass.”


	3. Chapter 3

As Captain Jones shows her around the ship, each of the crew members stops what they’re doing to watch her walk past them. When they reach the helm, Jones turns towards the rest of the ship, his whole crew already turning their attention towards him.

“How long until we’re ready to sail?” He calls over them, and a stout man stumbles to the front of the crowd, wringing something bright red in his hands. “Moments away, c-c-Captain Hook.”

“Thank you, Smee!”

The small man makes his way up to the two of them at the helm, refusing to look in Emma’s direction. “C-Captain, it’s bad luck to have - have a woman on board, isn’t it?”

“The way I see it, Smee,” the Captain replies, turning from his first mate to the woman at his side. “It would be bad form to leave a damsel in distress when we have more than enough room for her. And you know what I say, Smee: bad form is - “

“Worse than bad luck,” Smee finishes the sentence with him. “Yes, Captain.” Smee leaves them at the helm to finish his duties before they set sail.

After few moments, Emma turns towards her savior, who has his hands on the wheel - and for the first time, Emma realizes something, backed by the name Smee called him earlier - in place of one of his hands, Captain Jones has a large, shining hook.

“Captain Hook,” she says out loud, though she didn’t mean to, and he turns towards her, a sinister, knowing smile on his face.

“Yes?”

“You’re - you’re Captain Hook? The Captain Hook, who stole one of the naval ships and became the most well-known, vengeful pirate ever known?”

He is still smiling when she turns back to him, and it’s not until she meets his eyes that he chuckles and replies, “Yes, Princess. But you can continue to call me Captain Jones, if you wish.” He leans in close, his lips almost touching her ear, his good hand holding her by the arm just above the elbow. “Or, as long as the crew is out of earshot, you can even call me Killian.”

She wriggles out of his grasp, a furious fire raging behind her stormy green eyes. “And you weren’t even going to tell me? You were just going to let me believe that you’re still the same boy from all those years ago?”

His head snaps back towards her, returning her glare for just a moment before his gaze softens with his smile. “You’ve only been on my ship for ten minutes, and we’ve just taken sail moments ago, so the time for me to fill you in on my backstory has been less than ample.”

“But you still could have, um - “ Emma’s argument falls apart in her hands.

“Introduced myself?” he asks with the same words she just stopped in her throat. “I didn’t have to, since you knew who I was. It just so happens to be that is no longer what most people know me by. Besides - “ he holds up his hook hand to drive his point. “It’s not really something I can shy away from.” After a moment of silence from her, he adds, “And you can’t tell me that you haven’t changed at all in the past ten years.”

“I haven’t changed this drastically!” she comments, taking his hook in her hand. “Even you can’t argue that, Killian.” Her voice turns soft  when she tests out his name, and the two lock eyes for a moment, both trying to find the remains of the other that they knew when they were younger - but Emma breaks it when she sees movement behind him, and he turns to see what made her look away.

As he begins his conversation with Smee, Emma walks over to the railing, looking not out over the open water, but back towards the land, the hustle and bustle of the everyday life that she left behind her. She can see the movement of those on the docks, lit up by the fires lit outside the huts and next to the stands - and, up on the hill beyond the woods, she can see the castle, her castle, glowing bright in the light of the full moon, where soon someone would find the letter she left her father and begin the panicked search for her.

She only hopes that her father is smart enough and in the right mind to know that she will be far beyond his reach, not to waste his resources on finding her, as it will all be in vain. But before she turns her back on the castle, she can’t help but smile, thinking back on all the stories her parents told her about their relationship before they got married, long before they were king and queen of anywhere: because when you truly love someone, you will always make your way back to them. You will always find them.

 

Back at the helm, Smee asks Hook a question none of them have even thought of yet: "C-Captain, where is she going to stay? You already set that man up in the guest quarters, the one from the tavern last night? We have no where for her to stay!"

Killian turns back towards the princess, who is leaning over the railing looking back over her realm, her blonde hair already flowing in the sea breeze and shining with the reflection of the moon. "Don't worry about her, Smee. You can take her bag and set her up in my quarters, it's much nicer there anyway." He picks up the back she dropped behind the helm and hands it to his first mate.

"B-but C-Captain! Where will you sleep?"

 _I'll sleep on the bloody deck if it would make her happy,_ he thinks, but does not confess this to his first mate. "I'll be perfectly fine," are the words he chooses, though he knows he's not talking about his sleeping arrangements. 


	4. Chapter 4

“And this will be where you stay while we’re at sea,” he says, leading her down the stairs to his quarters. 

He had lit the lanterns earlier that night, before Emma came onto his ship, so the room is lit to the fullest and ready for its new guest. She takes a minute to take in the room, then begins walking around the perimeter. 

Inside, she is torn: the cabin is beautiful, cozy, everything she needs it to be; but at the same time, it also makes her miss her own bedroom dearly, her treasured possessions she decided to leave behind. She runs her slim fingers along the smooth wooden walls, which draws her attention to the one heirloom she hasn't taken off since her father gave it to her five years ago: her mother's engagement ring, a small but beautiful emerald that brought her parents together for the first time - and while she already misses her father dearly, in this moment she misses her mother more, a loss that still tugs on her heartstrings. 

Her fingers reach a large black frame hanging on the wall, which pulls her attention back to the cabin, and more specifically the map hanging in front of her. It is so large that it takes up most of the far wall. It is unlike any map she has ever seen, beautifully hand-drawn, with mountains, valleys, all the waterways - but the thing that makes it stand out the most is not the intricacy of the drawing, but the variety of places shown on the map: not just the Enchanted Forest, but places from  _ other realms _ , even places she has never even heard of: Camelot, Arendelle, Neverland, all laid out in perfect, uniform calligraphy. 

“These maps, they’re gorgeous. Where are they from?” She keeps her hand pressed against them for just a moment, until he doesn’t answer; then he turns around to face him to find him standing right behind her, reaching his good hand towards to map to lay it next to her. His eyes are on the map, his lips curled up into a half-smile.

“These,” he mumbles, running his hand across the lines of the Neverland map. “Are my life’s work.”

She whips her head to face him. “You - you made these?”

“Aye, love.”

After a moment, she furrows her brow. “Why is your life’s work hanging in the guest quarters of your ship? My father always told me that the maps are kept in the captain’s chambers, where he can watch over them.”

“Your father is a smart man, and he’s right.” Killian comes up with a quick lie in his head, one he hopes the princess can’t see through: “But what’s the point of spending your whole life hand-drawing maps if no one ever gets to see them?”

Emma turns to him, watching his face carefully, after he says this. Something in his voice was wrong, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was her gift, something her parents learned very early on in her life: you can not lie to Emma Swan. But instead of calling him out, she tries to catch him in his lie, hopefully causing less embarrassment to her new comrade, and the man that she will be spending a good part of the foreseeable future around.

“Can I see the ones in the Captain’s quarters, then?”

He turns to her, his eyes wide at first - scared, almost - and she knows she is right, though she’s not sure about what. “Why? They’re not nearly as intricate and exciting as these ones.”

“I’ve just never seen a captain’s cabin on a ship before, especially not one as beautiful as this one. And I feel like I’ve seen the whole ship already, but you somehow haven’t even mentioned your chamber yet.”

“I saw no reason for it.”

Emma narrows her eyes at him, seeing through to his soul - and he feels it, the blazing fire of her gaze, reaching his very core. He has been up against every kind of enemy, has yet to find something he fears enough to render him unable to move, but it is not in a daring swordfight or in the middle of a battle that he finally finds it; instead, it is right here, in his very own chambers, in front of the only reason he had ever wanted a home on land before his brother was taken, locked in a staring contest with the woman that won his heart at fifteen, though he had never told a soul besides Liam, whose memory had been suppressed enough during the last long ten years that he had almost forgotten, locked her away in the deep, dark confines of what was left of his heart. 

Locked away until he had heard her name uttered in the tavern a few nights prior, by someone whose heartbreak he could understand, someone whose reason for love was taken from him too soon, who could no longer bare to be in a world where he could not have the one he truly loved. 

Killian still remembered what that felt like, having your true love taken away so quickly, and lived with the pain of it every day - but even the vilest, cruelest of villians could not bear to see the pain in this man’s eyes, and he offered him a place on his ship. He may not know where he was heading, but after the conversation with this stranger, he knew he could no longer stay in this kingdom, not that he knew what was happening to her, the woman who had been the central figure in his heart for many years, until Milah, whose death he was still seeking revenge for. 

But having her in front of him, so close to him for the first time in what felt like a whole lifetime, though it was only ten short years, was by far the greatest and most surprising thing that had ever happened to him. Once he realized it was true, and he wasn’t dreaming, he had decided to do whatever it takes to keep her by his side, to protect her and guard her in the ways he had failed to do with Milah. 

And that was how he found himself here, in this very situation, with her blazing green eyes seeing right through his masquerade act of trying to persuade her to stay with him. And while he had been planning in his head the whole tour what to tell her to keep her from knowing the truth about his chambers, there is something in her eyes that lets him know that she already knows the truth, that the woman in front of him is not a force to be reckoned with - and he finally cracks. 

“These are the captain’s chambers, right here.”

She nods knowingly, her eyes softening slightly now that he is telling the truth. “Okay. And why are you trying to set me up in your chambers? Where are you going to stay?”

Without meaning to, he smiles at her. “I - actually, I hadn’t quite figured that out yet. I just wanted you to be comfortable, and this is the only place available for that, besides the sick bay, and I certainly wasn’t going to set you up there.”

“That would be perfectly acceptable, Killian. Moreso than kicking yourself out of your own room, at least.”

“I’m not budging on this one, Emma. I insist that you stay here for as long as you’re on the ship.”

“Killian, I - “

“Really, Emma. This is where you’re staying, captain’s orders.”

Her features soften as she smiles up at him. “Well, I guess I can’t deny a captain his right to run his own ship and make his own decisions.” A beat of silence passes between them, and she turns her attention back to the map, though he finds himself unable to do the same. 

After a moment, she says, “I thought you were supposed to be the cruelest pirate on any of the seas, Killian. Why are you doing all of this for me? Giving up your chambers, taking me in as a guest?”

He stares at her for another moment, and when he does not reply, she turns back towards him. He gives her the only response he can think of: closing the gap between them and pressing his lips against hers.

“Don’t you know, Emma?” He whispers, leaving their foreheads pressed together, his hand stroking the back of her neck. “I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who have been keeping up: I'm trying to post a chapter every day or so, so they continue to be a little short... sorry! But thank you for sticking around, I really appreciate it!

She let him kiss her again, pressing his soft, warm lips against hers before she pushes him away, her hands staying pressed against his bare chest for another fleeting moment, then she turns away from him, backing towards the window of the cabin, trying to put space between them.

She doesn’t know what to think - or, more appropriately, thinks too many things at once. Part of her wants to kiss him until they can’t breathe, not because of any reciprocated feelings, but because she needs something like him to keep her centered right now; but at the same time, she has gone through so much in the past few weeks, between her father making her marriage decision the same day she was going to do the same, to losing everything she ever thought was concrete. She appreciates his presence at the moment, the warmth of him against her, the memory of him on her lips, but she can’t do that to him, to the man that not only just kissed her, but confessed his ten-year-old love of her.

She spends too much time in her head trying to decide what to do, that Killian takes matters into his own hands, wordlessly leaving her in the cabin alone. After a few moments, she sets herself down on the bed, stuck deep inside her head.

_What had she done? How many relationships could she ruin in one week?_

She thinks back on the pirate, whose blue eyes bear into her soul even though he is no longer in the room with her; but she also can’t stop herself from drawing up the memory of the man who confessed her love to her just a few days before, the one she decided she would be happy with for the rest of her life, could learn to love even though they had been friends since birth. Unlike Killian’s confession, this one didn’t burn in her soul; instead, her father’s response to her telling him is what burned, quick and fast and repeatedly, every time she had thought back on it over the past few days. He had forbidden him from the castle, acted harshly towards the boy he had known his whole life - and acted even more harshly towards his daughter, forcing her to marry someone she did not love.

She begins to doze off, jumping back to reality a few times, visions of two different sets of blazing blue eyes swirling through her head,the two colors so similar yet so different, one strong and bright, like fresh, cool water; the other soft and warm, the clear sky on a beautiful day. _Why did she have to keep finding herself in the company of beautiful men with shining blue eyes?_ This is the last question she asks herself before the slow rocking of the ship - which she thought would keep her up - lulls her to sleep.

 

Killian stands at the helm, searching the stars that he has come to know so well, that he spent so many nights studying with Liam, some aboard this very vessel. His heart is pounding, both from what he had done and her reaction to it, but standing there, the waves rocking the ship, watching the reflection of the moon in the dark waters, he feels it begin to return to normal. 

He could stare out at the stars for hours, and he loses track of how long he has stood there before he realizes that he had not decided on a heading when they left Misthaven, only knowing that he had to leave when he did, get himself and his first stowaway as far away from this bloody realm as fast as he could. With all the places he has been, he can’t seem to decide just where to go next. If he had seen the man in the guest cabin since he came aboard, he would ask him if he had any preference: leaving the Enchanted Forest was his idea in the first place. But his guest asked for privacy, to not be bothered for any reason, unless the ship was sinking - and the chances of that happening to the _Roger_ were few and far between.

So Killian does the next best thing: calls his crew to him, and they gather around him on the deck.

“I’ve asked you all to keep your ears open for mentions of other lands that we have not yet explored, and if you have one, now is the time to speak up!”

They mumble among themselves for a few moments, looking around at their comrades; none of them seem to have an answer for their captain. But then, the door to the guest cabin opens, revealing its inhabitant for the first time since he entered the cabin: a tall, muscular man, his shaggy dark hair and bright blue eyes similar to Killian’s, and he notices that in his arm lies a large, brown book, one of the only possessions he brought with him onto the ship.

“I know of somewhere you may not have explored yet, captain,” he announces, taking another step onto the deck.

“Aye, mate, and where might that be?”

“It’s called the Land Without Magic.” A grin spreads across Killian’s face, one that the guest returns. “You’ve heard of it, then?”

“In tall tales and stories from weathered sailors when I was just a lad, yes.”

“A c-c-cursed land, c-captain.”

“The best place for a cursed captain, then, Smee!” Killian holds up his hook for emphasis, then grabs the wheel with it, turning back towards his guest. “The only problem with traveling to an unknown land is, even in a magic ship, you must know where it is you’re going.”

But the stranger is one step in front of him, already leafing through the pages of his book to procure something. He approaches the helm, finding what he was looking for, then hands it to the captain: a map, both of the land itself and - more helpful in their present situation - a star map.

Killian looks over the two of them, his heart pounding excitedly in his chest thinking of the adventures before him, and he smiles at his guest, then turns to his crew.

“Gentlemen, it appears that we have found our heading!”

Many of them cheer, but it is the first mate, Mr. Smee, who seems to be the most worried. Like Killian, Smee had heard his own collection of stories about this Land Without Magic, one so very different from their own, even from the others they had visited - and so he fails to share the same excitement with his captain, although he has learned to trust the man with his life.

After examining the star chart for a few more moments, then realigning his own bearing with the stars, he hands the maps back to his guest. “Many thanks, Mr. Booth. I imagine this journey will be one worthy of your book?”

August smiles back at his captain, a man who had quickly become a fast friend in the tavern just a few days before. “I do believe so, captain.”

Killian’s men make quick time of the preparations for take off, and within just a few short minutes, they are ready to take to the air. Killian gives the order, and they are off the water and into the sky, his new friend standing next to him at the helm.

He is so used to the change between water and air that it does not phase him anymore, and he could be anywhere on the vessel at the moment it happens and not think twice about it - but it is moments too late when he remembers that the man standing next to him is not the only guest aboard his ship, a fact that searching for a heading allowed him to forget momentarily, and the moment he begins to head down the stairs to secretly calm the woman occupying his chambers, he hears her open the door below them and step out, either furious or terrified, or some concoction of both.

To one of the crewmen, she asks where the captain is, and he wordlessly responds, pointing behind her, to where Killian and August stand next to each other behind the large wheel of the ship.

“Killian, what in the hell - “ she begins, then realizes exactly what he sees in front of her: the two men who have confessed their love to her in the past few days - the only two men she has ever loved, though in very different ways - standing shoulder to shoulder above her, August’s mouth gaping, Killian slowly shaking his head, seeing his mistake unravel right before his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

“August,” she breathes, still not quite believing her eyes, while August is unable to move. 

Emma may be in shock, not quite knowing what she thinks, but August is in a whole different world: he found himself aboard this ship to get away not from palace life, or Misthaven, but  _ her,  _ the exact woman he needed to get away from. Emma may be running away from her marriage, her expectations as a princess, but August was just a shadow of a thought at the back of her mind. 

There are so many things August wants to say, to yell at both his princess and the captain, but they are all flying around his head so quickly that he cannot get any of them out. 

Emma looks back and forth between the two men, her head spinning in the same haze of blue eyes that lulled her to sleep - but she does her best to push them to the back of her mind, instead continuing the question she burst out of the captain’s quarters to ask. 

“Hook, what the hell is going on? Why did the ship lurch like that?”

“If you’re afraid of heights, I wouldn’t go looking overboard, Princess.”

Emma, it turns out, is not afraid of heights; she is, in fact, the opposite, and makes her way over to the railing of the ship, looking below her.  She sees the reflection of the full moon on the waves below her, but does not quite understand what she is seeing; she conjures a fireball and drops it, her eyes slowly widening as it falls to the ocean below them. 

“Captain,” she asks, turning back to them, only to find that he has filled in the space between them, leaving August by himself at the helm, watching them. She tries not to get caught up by just how close the pirate is to her, but at the same time, she can’t stop focusing on the perfect way that the moonlight reflects in his brilliant blue eyes. After what seems like a lifetime, she pulls her gaze away from his, looking down towards the polished boards of the deck. She clears her throat, pulling herself together, and finally continues, though quieter this time, “Where in the hell are we going?” 

“Mr. Boothe only asked that we leave the realm of the Enchanted Forest, and when I asked for ideas, he procured a star map and suggested the Land Without Magic.”

“The Land Without Magic!” Emma yells at him, overcome with too many emotions, but when she realizes that every man on the deck of the ship is looking towards her and Killian, she takes a deep breath and lowers her voice slightly. “Captain, I wish to speak with you in your - uh, my? - quarters. Alone.” And before he can answer, or she can look around to see the faces of everyone around her, and especially the man standing behind the wheel above her, she makes a beeline for the door of the captain’s chambers, which she left open. 

She has a moment to pull herself together, running her fingers through her hair and sitting down on the edge of the bed, before Killian follows her, closing the door behind him. 

“What seems to be the problem here, lass?”

After a moment, she looks up at him. “Are you insane?”

His eyes widen, then he furrows his brow at her. “What are you talking about, Swan? I’ve been hearing stories about this land for as long as I’ve been hearing stories, and I see no reason to be afraid of a land like this, especially not when I’ve braved so many lands before.”

“I’ve also heard tales of this land, most of them from my father. And none of them ended well for the people who traveled there. They don’t understand people like us, people - people like me.” She holds out her hands, building a small flame in each of them.

Killian sits down next to her, trying his best to keep at least a few inches between his leg and hers, but lets his eyes see deep into her soul. “You have no need to be afraid, Emma. I will protect you. I would - “ He sets his hand on her knee, testing the waters between them. His hand is warm, almost searing her skin, even through her pants, but she can’t bring herself to ask him to move it. “I would do anything to keep you safe.”

“Killian,” she whispers, but can’t bring herself to say anything else, just longed for the feel of his name in her mouth. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, searching for some sense of him lying - somehow, she thinks that would be easier to deal with, if he was lying to her about his feelings. But all she finds in the bright oceans of his eyes is the truth, comfort and warmth and the soul of a man who cares for her in a way that no one has done before, not even August. “I need to know something,” she says after a few long moments. 

“Aye, love, anything.”

“How - how is this ship flying?”

It is just about the last think Killian expects to hear, and it catches him by surprise - but after a moment, he can’t help but smile at her. The tension in the room clears up a bit as he begins to recall the story, Liam’s commission from the king, the Pegasus, their trip to Neverland - Liam’s death in his arms, in this very room. And while everything in him told him to burn the Pegasus sail, there was another part, a smaller part that screamed that he needed to keep it, to use it for the opposite of the evil the king created it for - and for years, he has been using it to travel between the realms, flying under his own banner on his stolen  _ Jewel of the Realm _ , his whole life changed after the death of his dear brother. 

A beat of silence passes between them before Emma realizes that she has wound her fingers through his, still resting on her leg, but instead of pulling away, she squeezes his hand. “You really have a soft side, then, huh?” 

She smiles up at him, and he returns it. “Aye, but if you tell anyone, I’ll send you to the brig.”

When he presses his lips against hers this time, she doesn’t push him away; in fact, she does the opposite, running her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, pulling him towards her. She feels his tongue on her bottom lip, and she grants him entry, deepening the kiss together. There is something in his taste that calms her, between the sea and the rum, that she wants more, wants to never forget it. 

They pull apart at the same time, keeping their foreheads pressed together. 

“Emma, I - “ He starts, but she has to get something off her chest before she can let him say anything else. 

“Please, Killian, let me,” and he nods to her, his eyes soft and bright. “I want this, I want to give us a try, but I need to talk to August first. I may not - I don’t - you know - but I know how he feels about me, and he means so much to me, as a friend. I can’t just throw this on him, especially on a pirate ship flying through the sky, when he has no other choice than to see me.” Killian doesn’t answer right away, and Emma takes his chin in her hand, pulling his gaze back to him. “Is that - you understand, right?”

“Aye, love. I’ve waited for you for ten years, I can wait a little bit longer to call you mine.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long to get out to you all! But I'm really excited where it's going... ENJOY!

The impact of the ship against the water is less terrifying than the takeoff,  but still catches Emma by surprise. The first thing she notices is not the clear blue water or the cloudless bright sky off the port bow, the things she would normally notice first; instead, what draws her attention is the sky full of smoke on the other side of the ship. Emma seems to be the first one to see it, but it doesn’t take long to catch the attention of the rest of the crew.

“Hook, what are we going to do?” August voices everyone’s concerns, and asks the exact question Killian just asked himself.

After a moment, he hears his brother’s voice in his head, and jumps up a few steps to be above the rest of the crew. “A great captain once told me that a good man never backs away from a challenge. So, lads, as captain of this vessel, I say we head towards the challenge, and not away from it!” He goes the rest of the way up to the helm, and steers the ship towards the smoke. It takes them a while to reach it, having to sail almost all the way up a harbor, but when they begin to hear the bang of cannons, Killian second-guesses his choice for one of the first times in his life.

He is surprised to see that the closest harbor is not full of warships; he has never been in a battle that was not on the water, and he feels his heart pounding in his chest like the cannons in the background. In fact, the closer they get to the harbor, the further away the sounds of battle are. When they finally dock at the harbor, the townsfolk seem neither concerned with the battle or with them, but something still seems off to Killian.

“The Princess, my friend, and I will go to town and see if we can figure out just what is going on and decide with a course of action. You don't all have to stay on the Roger at all times, but I think it would be best if you only left in small shifts, which you can work out among yourself. And Mister Smee?”

“Aye, c-c-captain?”

“You’re in charge, of course.” He flashes his first mate a wicked, knowing smile, one the small man does not return, then turns on his heel, the long tails of his leather coat billowing behind him.

August and Emma follow suit, together just a few paces behind him. They are both silently wondering how they are going to find anything in the mysterious village, momentarily forgetting that they are in the presence of the _Fearless Captain Hook,_ who walks right up to one of the boys working the docks and asks, “‘Scuse me, lad, can I ask ye a question?”

“Aye, sir, and I'll answer as best I can,” he responds without looking up from the crates he is organizing.

“What might the name of this town be?”

This gets the attention of the boy, who now looks up at the man who approached him. For just a moment, he takes Killian in - his red paisley vest, tight black pants, and long leather coat - plus the two people standing behind him; in the same second, the three of them take him in: a young, dark-skinned boy in loose-fitting clothes,  covered in all different kinds of dirt.

“Why, this is Baltimore, Maryland, the most beautiful port town on the entire coast, United or Confederate states.”

“Yes, of course,” Killian responds, nodding, as if that makes any sense to him. “And where would the best place in this town be to get a good, hot meal and a bed for the night?”

“That would be the world-famous Green Dragon Tavern.”

“Would there be any chance you could show us the way to this, uh, Green Dragon Tavern?”

“Yes, sirs - and ma’am -” he adds, bowing to Emma slightly. “Of course. In fact, it would be my pleasure.”

His bow makes the nervousness melt off Emma, something that reminds her of home, and gives her the courage to speak up. “And what might your name be, young man?”

He turns to her, his eyes wide - the same blazing blue as killian’s., she can't help but notice - a look she has seen many times in the little boys of Mirkwood, especially those of the lower peasant families, the look of someone not used to being treated well by many, though after a moment, he is able to answer her: “Floyd, ma’am.”

“Well, Floyd,” she responds, flashing him her friendliest Royal smile, one even her mother would be proud of. “Thank you for agreeing to help us. We’re obviously not from around here.”

He turns back to Kilian, his next question not for Emma in his mind. “Have you come because of the war?”

 “Yes, yes, of course, the war.” Killian is trying his best to find as much information as he can without revealing their big secret: if he had learned one thing from the stories about this land, it is that the people in it don’t take well to learning about “new realms.” “We heard that there was a war, but we have not heard much about what the war is about, how it came to be.”

Floyd turns around, eyes wide, reflecting the little light in the dark streets. “So you know nothing about the secession? The slavery?”

The silence from the three of them answers Floyd’s question well enough, and for the rest of the short walk to the Green Dragon Tavern, he tells them the background of what the country had begun to call the American Civil War: the state of Texas choosing to leave the country, and other states following suit and creating their own country, the Confederacy; the slavery that had become such a regular thing in the southern states that caused the war, with them refusing the acknowledge the fact that the slaves who work for them are, in fact, people.

By the time they make it to the tavern, Killian’s blood is boiling with the injustice and prejudice that seems to be rampant, reminding him of the way he and his brother were treated as young boys. He sees himself in Floyd, in the blazing, hurting blue of his eyes and the smile that he hides behind. When they get to their destination, Killian stays with Floyd, buying him a drink and a bowl of hot stew. August, however, takes Emma by the arm, pulling her to a quiet, empty corner of the room.

“Emma, I - we need to talk.” They sit down on opposite sides of a table, both silent for few awkward minutes, until they both speak simultaneously, each reaching out to grasp the hand of the other.

“August, I never meant to hurt you.”

“Emma, I love you.”

The both take a deep breath, then August looks up at Emma, gesturing for her to continue. “I decided that, for the good of the kingdom and my position as princess, I could be happy with you at my side, but I knew I would never fall in love with you. That was exactly my argument for my father, who insisted I needed to marry for the kingdom, not for myself; but when I told him that I had decided who I was going to marry, he refused to hear the rest of the story, and insisted that the best thing to do is make sure you’re as far away from me as possible. I just - I never agreed to any of his ideas, but I couldn’t stop him.”

“But you - you never loved me? How did you know that you would never be able to find something with me?”

Emma doesn’t have an answer for him, but it seems to come at the perfect moment; across the room, in a group gathered around Killian, a rally has started.

**

“So why aren’t you fighting in this war?” Killian asks, taking a sip of the ale.

“My mother won’t let me fight. A few weeks ago, my brother was killed in battle, and she insisted that I come home, so she didn’t lose both of her sons to a battle that was against them in the first place.”

Killian nods, understanding exactly what the young boy is saying: he, too, lost his brother in a set of circumstances that he had no reason to be a part of. “Aye, lad, I too lost a brother to a war. Tell me, Floyd: what can I do to help you?”

Floyd finishes the bite of stew he was taking, looking up at the Captain, an idea brewing in his head. “Actually, Captain, I know exactly what you can do.  Have you ever heard of the Underground Railroad?”

“I have not, but if you seem to think it’s the best way I can help you, just tell me what I need to do.”

“We need your ship, sir.”

Killian can’t help but smile at him. “Well, that’s exactly how I prefer to help people.”

Floyd stands up excitedly, getting the attention of a few of the men around them - and then he yells, getting the attention of everyone else. “We have a conductor!”

The whole tavern cheers, talking excitedly; and it is now that Killian looks across the room to Emma and August, sitting alone at a table, hands together, and his heart sinks.


	8. Chapter 8

“Good news, men!” Killian announces, jumping aboard his ship the next morning. “We found ourselves amid a war in this land, a grand Civil War, and I found us a way to use our resources to help out those in need. As you are all abundantly aware, Captain Hook does night back down from a fight against tyranny!” He pumps his hook in the air, and the crew cheers.  “But I, of course, will give you all the option to stay aboard the _Roger_ , because what we are about to embark in is extremely dangerous, and if you choose not to stay with us,  I’ll give you what you need to stay here in Baltimore, but you must leave now.”

He gives the crew a few moments to make up their minds, but is pleasantly surprised when every single one of them stays on the deck of the ship. It’s a proud moment for him as a captain, and he flashes them a smile to show them. He then looks around, sees all the men on the docks around them, and leads his crew into their below-deck quarters.

“Aye, boys, then this is what’s going to go down. The _Jolly Roger_ has been commissioned to be a secret slave runner for the United States. These men are fighting and dying in a war that started because tyrants wouldn’t acknowledge them as people, so we are going to save them. We will be leaving midday tomorrow to make port down south under the cover of darkness. That gives our friend enough time to get word down there and have everyone organized by the time we make port. So, for tonight, we are all staying on the ship, no questions asked. I’ll make sure everyone is fed well as the day goes on; the tavern is not far from here, and they fully support what we are doing. But - I cannot be more serious about this matter, boys - you cannot speak of this to anyone outside of the Green Dragon.” He dismisses them, giving them the day to themselves to spend in the town, doing whatever their hearts desire.

Once the crew clears off the ship, only the three of them remain: Killian, Emma, and August. Killian busies himself around the ship, doing all he can on his own to prepare them for their journey, obviously filled with adrenaline.  This, however, leaves Emma and August alone in the crew quarters, able to pick up their conversation where it was left in the dust of the tavern.

But as soon as August opens his mouth to speak, Emma is already halfway up the steps to the deck, locking herself away in Killian’s cabin, just as August locked himself in his.

She lays down on the hard bunk, unable to stop herself from thinking over all that has happened, just in the past day: finding themselves amidst a battle - a _war_ \-  meeting someone so much like her pirate that Killian then offers his help to them, sacrificing his ship, his men, _his life_ to this cause he has just learned of - a sacrifice she is not sure she is ready to make.

She dozes off, lost in her mind, rocked to sleep by the rough waters churning in the harbor. Her dreams are full of storms, cannons, gunfire, tyranny, and death, not a solid, story-like dream, but instead a collection of snippets. When she finally awakes, she finds Killian sitting at the foot of the bed, keeping watch over her; then notices the darkness of the room, which she quickly fills by lighting the candles with her magic, not giving it a second thought. At first, she wonders how she seems to have slept all day; then she sees the flash of lightning outside the window, hears the crash of the thunder and the roar of the wind, and realizes that it is not nighttime, simply storming.

It takes her a few moments to fully awake before she realizes what she has just done, which Killian noticed right away: _conjured fire_. Used her magic, here, in the Land Without Magic. She looks up at him, still sitting at the foot of the bed, his eyes now the same stormy grey she sees through the window, and together, they come up with a plan.

 

The storm has not faltered by the time  they set sail the next day, a storm more violent than Emma ever remembers home in Misthaven. But unlike the other storms Killian has had to sail through, he now possesses his secret weapon aboard the _Roger_ , which gives him a new shot of confidence: the magic-wielding princess, able to calm the seas around them while the rest of the ocean rages, keeping them safe, a trick Killian insisted Emma practice the night before. He has always seemed to have luck on his side, but he never imagined that his luck would come in the form of Emma Swan. He can’t help but watch her as she concentrates, her silver-blonde hair billowing around her from the winds beyond her control.

She has bewitched him, drawn him out from under the hard shell of Captain Hook that he created for himself, something that he had feared from the moment he began creating it; but with her, none of it mattered. For her, he could let down his guard and not be afraid of what would happen to him.

Their first journey is by far the rockiest: Killian is unsure of exactly where to make port, though the storm has ceased, until he sees a group of torches on the shore. Once all the men are aboard, ten of them total, he steers the ship in the other direction, and has just gotten the wind to take to the sails when he notices a ship behind them, just out of the reach of the cannons. Though he knows she is exhausted, she is his only choice, and she uses the rest of her energy to summon a storm above their unwanted guest, creating a wall of water so thick they cannot see far from the edge of the ship, losing their course and running ashore. She continues the storm, though, until they are on the horizon, completely unable to follow; then she gives Killian the clear to release the sails and make way up the coast to their destination, a small coastal town further north than Baltimore called Dover.

A friend of Floyd’s is on the dock to meet them, matching the description given to him down to the color of his shirt, and while this man insists that the _Roger_ will be safe and sound in the harbor, Killian refuses to leave the ship. Up at the very break of dawn the next morning, they are off again to rendezvous in Baltimore with Floyd before sailing farther south again.

They do this four more times scot-free, thankfully avoiding any storms like the one on their first day, bringing nearly fifty previously-enslaved men, women, and children - and four dogs - to safety in different northern towns.

It is the sixth time that they arrive in the Chesapeake Bay area beyond Charleston  when something is very wrong: instead of the hustle and bustle of a regular day in the port town, the sky is filled with the flashes and deafening booms of a battle, happening just beyond the limits of the town. .

Killian sounds his battle cry as soon as they are docked:

“I would never force a man to fight a battle that is not his, for it is simply not good form. I, however, am not privy to running from fights when a man’s freedom is on the line. I have always allowed you all to choose your own fates aboard this vessel, and I will do the same thing today. I will choose to go to battle here, but you are each free to choose for yourselves, knowing no judgement will come from me, nor any man on my crew!”

With this, he flashes a smile and a sly wink at Emma, standing at the helm, and jumps down off the ship onto the dock, heading straight towards the battle - and every single man aboard the _Jolly Roger_ follows suit, with August bringing up the rear, after silently looking back to Emma, sadness in his pale blue eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Alone aboard the ship, Emma loses track of the time, judging only by the location of the sun in the clear summer sky, tainted only with the pale grey smoke from far-away cannons. The dock around her remains empty, lacking any sort of moment whatsoever. Everyone who is not actively battling the enemy beyond the town lines seems to be hiding away from the destruction of war, and she does not blame them.

After a while, she sits down on the deck behind the helm, the place that reminds her the most of Killian while still allowing herself to watch over the dock. The day is long, the hours passing by slowly. As the cover of darkness begins, she lays down, looking up at the stars as they begin to appear. She may have dozed off once or twice - she honestly doesn’t remember - but she returns to consciousness when she hears someone call her name, someone far off, coming from the direction of the town. With the lack of light in the town, she is unable to make out any details beyond their existence, though they obviously know who she is; but as they approach her, she feels her heart rise to her throat, her stomach sink towards the beams of the deck. The first face she recognizes is August’s, but that is not what worries her; for in his arms, his bare chest covered in dirt and blood, is Killian, _her Killian_ , and in that moment, she decides to do anything she can to save him.

She rushes out to the dock, where August sets Killian’s body down on the worn planks. Emma still feels lightheaded, like her whole life is falling apart in front of her - well, the little bit of life she still has control of after all of the recent events. She falls to her knees next to him as August fills her in: “The battle was almost over for the night. He had just decided to turn in for the night, return to the ship. And then we took some heavy fire, and he took a couple shots right in a row. But the worst part is that I knew I had to bring him to you, but I was too afraid to carry him with all the fighting going on, and now if something happens to him because it’s too late, it’s all my fault and - “

“August,” she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear, and peels her eyes away from Killian’s mangled body for just long enough to turn her worried green eyes up to him. “You did the right thing.”

And then she goes back to her work, running her hands across his bare chest, eyes closed, trying to assess the damage. It’s by far the worst thing she’s ever had to heal, but it doesn’t have much to be compared with: the hardest heals she’s ever had at the castle were papercuts, skinned knees - anything more serious than that was taken to the healers, not the princess. But there is something inside her, a warmth in her chest, that somehow seems to give her the courage she needs.

She feels the warmth spread through her whole body, up her arms and out her fingertips. It feels familiar, like the sun radiating down on a hot but windy  day, or the first dip in a warm, freshly-drawn bath after a cold winter day; yet completely new, a warmth unlike anything she has ever experienced before. And then, this warmth turns into a subtle white light, emulating from her fingertips and onto his chest.

For a few long, terrifying moments, nothing seems to be happening. The warmth disappears, and she fears she may have lost it, but then she notices something: the blood, that had been pooled around the wound, starts to disappear, seemingly going back where it belongs; and then, ever so slowly, his skin begins to fuse back together. As she feels the warmth return, his healing quickens, and within just a few seconds - though they seem like eternity - all that is left is a scar across his chest.

She does not take his hands off of him, even after the scar all but disappears, because she notices something extremely important: his chest may be healed, but he’s still not breathing.

Emma can’t think of a next move at first. She is exhausted, and for the first time notices the sweat beading on her forehead. _What would Snow White do?_ , she asks herself, as she tends to do in moments when she is out of luck. Her parents’ True Love is something that people revolve whole stories around -

And then she knows what she has to do. Her hands still pressed against his chest, her whole body quaking in fear, she leans down and presses her lips against hers, testing the only thing she has ever believed to bring a person back from death: True Love’s Kiss.

Nothing happens. No breath, no movement, no spasm; and she falls onto his chest, bawling - and then she feels him move, the rise and fall of his chest under her head.

The warmth returns, but it’s different this time: instead of just her, it comes from both of their bodies, together, but somehow it feels better to her than the beautiful warmth that helped her heal her Killian. Lost in the moment, she kisses him again, this time not so gently. Feeling him move against her, breathing, responding - _living_ \- is the greatest thing she has ever felt, something that she never wants to lose.

"Killian. Oh, Killian," she whispers to him, running her hands over him, only half-believing that he's actually back in her arms. "I can't - I love you."

"Aye, Swan, I love you."

She leans down and and kisses him again, this time not so gently. She can sense the surprise in him, in the way that he responds to his lips against hers - but not as surprised as she is when he stops suddenly, his eyes fixed not on her, but on what’s behind her: standing above them, silent but mouth agape, is August.


	10. Chapter 10

Emma quickly bolts upright, realizing the mistake she made getting lost in the moment. “August,” she breathes, but it’s too late - they’ve given their secret away - and more than that, they’ve revealed their secret in what possibly may be the worst way ever. 

He stares at them for a few more moments, then storms onto the ship and into his guest cabin. A brief moment passes between them in silence before Killian turns to her, a weak smile on his face. 

“You - you saved my life, Swan.”

“More than that, Killian.” She smiles back at him, taking his cheek in her hand. “I brought you back to life.”

“How?”

“The only way I’ve ever heard works, the way that saved both of my parents. True Love’s Kiss.” 

His eyes go soft. “You’re - we’re - True Love’s Kiss?” He is so befuddled that he cannot even create complete sentences. 

“Yes, Killian.”

They both know what that means without having to say anything else - while they may have both had the chance to be with someone who seemed to really care about them, this was the push that they both needed to be able to be together, in harmony with each other and the seas, and nothing can stand in their way.

Except the heartbroken blue-eyed boy who just locked himself in his cabin. 

They kiss again, more confident and calming than anything else, then Emma gently helps him up off the wet, worn wood of the docks and onto the Roger. They both turn towards the door to his cabin, but Emma stops in her tracks. 

“I have to go talk to him, Killian,” she says softly as he opens the door to the cabin. 

“Aye, lass. And I’ll be in here, waiting for you.”

Smiling at each other, they part ways, and she knocks on the door to August’s cabin, but finds the door open just a crack, having not been closed all the way when he slammed it. Emma slowly pushes the door open some more to find August lying face-up on his bed, unmoving even at her entrance. 

“August, we need to talk.”

“How long were you two hiding this from me?” he asks, still unmoving. 

“We’ve only been aboard this ship for a week.” She knows it’s the truth, but it just feels wrong as she says it; it feels like so much longer than that, with the adventures that they’ve been on in just the past seven days. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Emma?”

“I tried, I really did. But every time I tried to talk to you, you just wanted to talk about how in love with me you are, and I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it when you were talking about… That.”

August finally looks at her, his usually-bright eyes pale and sad. “Emma, of course you could have told me. It would have at least been easier than this, honestly.”

“I never meant to hurt you. I really didn’t.”

A weak smile flashes across his face, but it only lasts for a moment. “You may have tried not to, Emma, but it didn’t work.”

“I know, I - I just got lost in the moment, I didn’t even know it was going to work, and it was the only thing I could think of. I only knew that I couldn’t lose him, not like that, not so soon - “

“Emma.” He stops her from spiraling, a softness in his voice, and sits up on the bed. “Is this what will make you the happiest?”

A week ago, or yesterday, or even fifteen minutes ago, she wouldn’t have been able to answer to confidently; but when she hears August’s question, she knows the answer, and she can’t help but smile.

“Yes,” she breathes. “I - I can’t explain it, August, but I love him.”

August’s smile is sad, but somehow still gives her hope. “I know exactly what you mean.. But if he is what makes you happy, then I can’t let myself be in the way.”

“Is that… Are you sure?”

“I love you, Emma, but I would do anything to see you happy. So if what I have to do is give you up to this pirate-” his voice is harsh, but he's still smiling. “-then I'll do it.”

“Oh, August. Thank you. I can't - I really can't thank you enough. You're incredible.”

She turns to leave, but he stops her. “Just - don't get hurt, Emma. You are still the princess.”

She smiles back at him, then closes the door behind her. 

The silence on the deck is bone-chilling, after all of the sound of the day's battle. She can hear the wind against the water, the soft shushes of the tide hitting the ground under the dock and the sides of the ship, the flapping of the Jolly Roger’s colors in the breeze. She takes a moment to bask in it, in the silence of the mild evening, feeling the breeze off the harbor on her skin, before quietly making her way to the Captain’s Cabin, where she hopes her sweet pirate is resting. 

As softly as she can, she swings the door open, and in the soft light of a single candle lighting up the cabin, she sees him on the bed, laying on his back, with his hands crossed on his stomach. His mouth is open slightly, and whatever he was thinking when he fell asleep - or what he was dreaming about - was making him smile, and she couldn’t help but hope it was her. 

She gently sits on the edge of the bed, pushing the dark hair off his fair forehead before unlacing her boots and slipping out of them before laying down next to him, then extinguishing the flame from the candle across the room. 

He is radiating warmth, most likely from his still-healing body, but she finds it comforting - almost as comforting as the soft thump-thump of his heart, her ear pressed against his chest. It doesn’t take long for her to forget about the stress of her conversation with August, the anxiety of the past few days illegally running people from enslavement - of almost losing her true love to a battle that he had no reason to be a part of, besides his blood-boiling hate of tyranny and oppression. _True love._ She repeats those words in her head, timing them with the beat of Killian’s heart, and within minutes, she is fast asleep. 

 

He almost doesn’t believe his eyes when he opens them: everything he’s dreamt about for years has come true: Emma Swan, his princess, the only woman he’s ever loved with his whole heart, curled up next to him, her hand laying on his chest - over his heart, which she has always had control of. 

He can’t stop himself: he turns gently and holds her in his arms, pressing his lips against her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose, and, finally, her lips, before laying his forehead against hers. He feels her eyelashes flutter against his cheek, and opens his eyes once more to see her bright green ones looking back at him, taking in the contours of his face. 

“Emma,” he whispers, kissing her nose again, and she smiles at him. “I was certainly not expecting this when I woke up. But needless to say, I think it is something I could get used to.” When she is silent, he asks the question that he just can’t keep back, no matter how much he doesn’t want to ask it: “What about August?”

“He has, uh, given us his blessing. I guess the True Love’s Kiss was good enough for him to understand that I wasn’t going to be with him.”

“Though I assume there would have been better ways of him learning that.”

“Yes, he did say something along those lines. But now I’m here, and you never have to let go.”

“Aye, lass. That’s the best news I’ve heard in quite a while.”

He kisses her again, gently at first, but then he feels her tongue on his lip, begging for more, and he absolutely cannot deprive her of that. It doesn’t take much longer for them to understand each others’ bodies, and by the time the sun has risen above the horizon, she has given herself to him in the truest and most complete way possible. 

They lay together for a while, still learning the contours of each other, before Killian breaks them apart, heading straight top the closet, though Emma stops him, needing to know what pulled him away from her. 

“I have a ship and a crew that I need to see to, love. As much as I would love to stay here all day and worship your lovely body, I have responsibilities.” 

She watches him pull on his leather pants and lace them around his still-bulging groin, then slide a vest over his bare chest. She fills the space between them and buttons up his vest herself, her nimble hands still shaking with the excitement of the morning. 

“I’ll meet you above deck in a few minutes,” she says, then kissing him one more time before he exits the cabin. She rifles through her bag of clothing, but nothing feels right - everything is too dressy for her new position in her life, next to her pirate love. At the bottom of her bag, she finds her riding pants, the tight, brown lace-up pair she wore the day she ran away from the castle, and an unworn yet wrinkly white tunic. She eyes herself in the mirror, but something is still not right, and while her appearance has never been most important to her, she still needs to look the part of her pirate captain’s lass.And then she figures it out, opening the closet to choose one of Killian’s many vests. She decides on a deep, dark green, a color that makes her eyes shine brighter, quickly plaits her hair, and goes up to the deck. 

There are far fewer men on board than she expects: just five, plus August and Killian standing at the helm. She climbs the few stairs and finds her place next to him, running her fingers through his, and he quickly smiles at her, but then just as quickly turns his attention back to where it was before: far beyond the deck, or the dock, past even the town - all the way out to the very empty field that surrounds it, where the battle took place just the day before. 

“Do you see anything, Will?” Killian calls to the crewman in the crow’s nest, who is looking through a small scope in the same direction. 

“Just a few, sir. Three or four of our men heading our way.”

“Is he with them?” Emma is unsure of what conversation she missed in the captain’s cabin, unsure of who ‘he’ is, but Will’s answer is negative. 

“No, sir. No sign of him, or that bright red hat of his.”

_Smee_. 

The already melancholy mood among the crew deepens. 

“Thank you, Will. Call out if you see anything,” Killian calls up, then turns to August and continues, much quieter, “Even if that is four men heading towards us, that only gives us nine, plus the three of us.”

“We will need to go to town and recruit them. Only a handful, six or seven more, but we will still need them.”

“Then go and recruit them, August. If Smee does not return, you’re my First Mate. And take Emma with you, make sure she gets a good meal in her before we set sail again. Be back around high noon.”

Killian turns back to the crew as if he didn't just give August the best news of his life, something to live for in a time when he has nothing left, not even the possibility of Emma. 

“First mate?”

When Killian turns back to August, his eyebrows are raised, a sly smile on his face. “Aye, Mister Booth. Or is that a problem?

Last I checked, you didn't have any other plans.”

“Well, no, but I don’t know the first thing about sailing. There must be someone among your crew who is more… Well, more qualified for this position.”

“Can you read a map?”

August pauses, his face reddening. “Yes.”

“Do you have a decent knowledge of the stars?”

“Not in all of the realms, but yes, I guess so.”

Killian turns to Emma for a moment and asks, “Do you see any reason why this fellow shouldn't be my first mate? You’ve known him much longer than I.”

Emma smiles back at him, then at August. “No, sir. He’s quite the gentleman, and is even known to be somewhat of a scholar on the streets he was raised on.”

“We could use a good scholar on this ship. Now, are you going to defy your first order as First Mate under my command, or will you take this lovely lass into town, find her a good meal, and recruit men for the adventure of a lifetime aboard the Jolly Roger?”

August finally smiles back, holding out his arm to Emma as an escort. 

“Aye, sir. We will be back around high noon.”

Killian then turns to Emma and plants a kiss on her lips, deepening it (purposefully?) for just a moment before he lets go of her. 

“Keep him on task, aye, Swan?”

“Yes,Captain,” she quips back with a quick smile, then gently bows to August before taking his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking around to the end! I might add another chapter or two down the road, or another story where she must return to Misthaven to tell David, but for now, this has been the FINAL chapter of The Runaway! I am taking part in the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer, so keep an eye out for super fun things to come!


End file.
